“did i ever tell you how beautiful your eyes are?” Yusuke and Keiko

GOD you choose the cheesiest shit for these two and I love it

a sappy fic for a sappy dude:

He doesn’t want to call her a nag.

It’s unfair to her, because every time Keiko reminds him of
something (no matter how, well, forcefully she does it) it’s
because he legitimately forgot. Sometimes Kuwabara will say stupid things to
him like “Urameshi, you’d lose your head if it wasn’t screwed on already”
and as much as that shit pisses him off, he’s totally right. Being a
high-ranking demon descendant changed Yusuke in a lot of ways, but it certainly
didn’t make him any better at chores or finishing his to-do lists in a timely
matter.

He also won’t call her one because he’s pretty sure she’d
kill him.

“When was the last time you did laundry? This place is a
mess!”

That’s how Keiko greets him the second she comes
home from university to visit him.

“Missed you too, babe,” he says casually, trying not to let
the comment needle him.

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a fondness in her smile that
means she’s not really upset. She tips her face up to give him a quick kiss,
and Yusuke marvels again at how tall she’d grown while he was away in Demon
World. Whenever he’d fantasize about kissing her (which he didn’t do that much,
shut up) he’d always imagined her reaching up on her tiptoes and him bending
down a bit to meet her halfway.

But literally everything about kissing Keiko is better than
his fantasies. He chases her kiss with another one, just because he can,
because he really did miss her. It sucked that he’d only been
back to Human World for a short period of time before she had to leave for
school. He didn’t realize how horrible it felt to be left behind until he was
the one left waiting. The thought makes him kiss her a third time, for good
measure.

“Someone sure is affectionate today,” Keiko says
good-naturedly.

“How long are you home for?” Yusuke asks.

“Three days. We got a long weekend.”

It still has him frowning. Three days isn’t long enough.

“Where’s your mom?”
Keiko asks, looking around their apartment and noticing the not-untypical
absence of one Atsuko Urameshi.

“Out,” he says with a scoff. “‘Living her thirties the
way she should have lived her twenties’ or some shit like that.” It certainly
wasn’t his fault she got pregnant as a teenager, though
sometimes that was the impression he got from his mother’s bad attitude. If he
thought about it more he’d probably be angry with her, but it’s not like she’s
the person Yusuke wants to spend time with right now anyways.

Keiko practically reads his mind. “So we’re alone?”

He grins wide. “Yep!”

He leans in to go back to his favorite recreational activity
involving Keiko, but he must have misread the room somehow because instead of
being met with her lips, Keiko’s slipping past him and leaving him grasping at
empty air.

“Good! That gives us plenty of time to clean this place up.”

Yusuke can only blink, a bewildered look stuck on his face.
She’s not serious, right?

But she’s picking up dirty clothes from the living room
floor. Like, yeah, they probably shouldn’t be there, but is that really their
biggest concern right now?

“Uhh, Keiko?” Yusuke asks, trying to keep the bite from his
tone.

“Hmm?” she says. She looks up at him and looks so innocently
confused that he only wants to kiss her more which makes this
whole thing even more exasperating.

“Do we really have to do this now?”

Her hands are on her hips now, and Yusuke feels like he’s
somehow done something wrong even though his reaction seems extremely logical.

“The only way this place gets cleaned up is when I’m around,
Yusuke! Excuse me for caring about your health and well-being enough to want to
clean up this pig sty!”

“You’re only here for three days, Keiko! You just said it
yourself! Are you really gonna spend the entire time you’re here nagging at me like
we’re still in middle school?”

Her expression turns even more cross. He’s said the word
that he’s been trying so hard to avoid and now she’s mad and
this isn’t supposed to be how this weekend was supposed to go. He wants to back
to kissing her but he can’t do that now that he’s pissed her off because
that’ll only make her even more mad.

“Did I ever tell you how beautiful your eyes are?” he says
weakly.

Her expression doesn’t change.

“I’m serious!” Yusuke says, following this train of thought
because it seems safer than reminding her that she’s nagging him just like she
would when they were kids. He needed the nagging then, too, but it’s not like
he can admit that to her.

He reaches out and takes her hand, still fisted and resting
firmly on her hip. She lets him, which feels like a start.

“Most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen,” he says, thumb grazing
her knuckles and looking at the eyes in question, which are still looking
royally pissed at him for being a slob and an asshole on top of it. “They
were all I could think about when I was in Demon World trying to get shit in
order.” He squeezes her hand. “They’re all I think about when you’re away
at school.” He lets himself smile crookedly. “They’re even beautiful when
they’re glaring at me.”

Her eyebrows waver for a moment, and then her expression
loses its heat. She rolls her eyes again and her smile returns.

“You’re such a jerk,” she says, which probably means ‘I
love you.’

“You’re my favorite nag,” he says, which definitely
means ‘I love you.’

She snatches her hand away from him to flick him in the
nose.

“We can go get something to eat first.” She concedes. “Then we
clean this place up.”

This sounds like a decidedly better plan. But there’s
something that needs to happen first. When he pulls her in to kiss her this
time, he doesn’t stop at one, or two, or three.

hearts that burn

did someone order a Super Sappy Kacchako fic, with a side of douchey Endeavor? bc boy do I have the fic for you!!

(ao3 link)

The fight ends almost as quickly as it began.

The villain crashes to the ground, only managing to take out
an entire four-way intersection, streetlights and all. There’s glass and metal
and live wires sparking everywhere, along with Endeavor standing in the middle
of an impressive crater, the villain lying unconscious beneath the pro hero’s
gigantic boot.

“See, Young Bakugo? No help required.”

He hates that
Endeavor still calls him that. He’s 21 for fuck’s sake. The fact that pro heroes
still feel the need to treat him like a child is laughable, especially when
Endeavor actually did need his help.
The controlled explosions that Bakugo let off kept the villain heading in the
right direction for Endeavor to messily intercept him. Bakugo lets out a
scornful “tch” as he surveys the damage of the intersection, as well as the
flames roaring from the nearby building that the villain initially attacked.
Aizawa-sensei would have flunked the hell out of Endeavor if he was in Eraser’s
class. This much damage should be a crime in and of itself.

Bakugo can’t help but wonder how the rest of the fight is
going. This villain had comrades at other locations in the city. Two other hero
agencies had already been dispatched to take care of them, but no one has
radioed with a confirmed take-down yet. He heard that Uraraka was with them,
following Gunhead into the fray to probably help with rescues. Bakugo hasn’t
seen her since yesterday, when she left his apartment for night patrol with
Gunhead’s agency. Her curry is still sitting on his kitchen counter, half
eaten.

He watches as the police and medics rush in to intercept the
villain still held captive under Endeavor’s heavy boot. Bakugo’s mouth sets
into a hard line as he watches them cart the villain away. He should be happy,
they took the villain down, but the smarmy look on Endeavor’s face has Bakugo’s
hands clenching into fists. Endeavor is an adult,
he shouldn’t look so much like the cat that got the cream for taking down one
villain before a rookie could. When Bakugo starts to smell nitroglycerin again he
squeezes his eyes shut. He won’t let his blood boil for something this stupid.

A familiar shout from down the road has him looking up. Amongst
the roaring flames of the burning building and the civilians screaming, Uraraka’s
voice rises above the noise.

“Bakugo!”

He sees her running towards him, blood dripping in between
her eyes from her own battle somewhere else in the city, but there’s a grin
spreading across her face that makes Bakugo’s day a little less shitty just
from seeing it. His shoulder is still aching from using his grenades so many
times in one fight, but that doesn’t stop him from holding his arms out for her
as she leaps toward him. He wasn’t worried about her—Uraraka’s a badass who’s
totally capable of protecting herself and others— but it’s clear from the way
she wraps her arms around his middle and buries her face in his shoulder that
she might have been worried about him.

Back when he was a teenager that thought would have made him
irate, but now he keeps his irritation at a healthy simmer. It still grates his
nerves, her concern for him. He’s never liked attention like that. It always
felt inherently negative to have someone worry about you, to be scared on your
behalf. It’s taken him a long time to realize that little wrinkle in her brow isn’t
because she doubts his capabilities, it’s because the world is filled with countless
dangers and absolutely no guarantees, especially in their line of work. She
worries because she cares, and sometimes that’s kinda nice.

Uraraka pulls back to look up at him. “You’re fine? You’re
not hurt?”

His response is gruff. “It ended quickly. Endeavor was
already here when I showed up.”

That doesn’t stop Uraraka from scanning him up and down for
injuries, taking specific note of a burn on his forearm that wasn’t hurting before she started poking it.

“Ochako.”

She stops her prodding and looks back up suddenly.

“I’m fine. Swear.”

God, she must have been really worried. Uraraka tugs on the
front of his costume to pull him in for a kiss, one that says everything he
knows she wants to say out loud to him but won’t in front of all these people.
A kiss that says I’m glad you’re safe and
we both survived another day and I love you. She won’t embarrass him in front
of all the pro heroes with sentimentality, she knows better than that, and
frankly he’d prefer kissing to talking in almost all situations anyway. He
holds her close as her hands cup his face, knowing that when she gets like this
she sometimes activates her quirk without thinking. The first time she kissed
him after a battle had left him floating a few feet off the ground with his
legs bicycling clumsily as he tried to find firm footing. He’s learned since
then, and now as he feels himself starting to hover he keeps his body straight
and pinches her arm.

“Ochako,” he murmurs again against her mouth.

She only separates from him a little bit, pulling her hands
from his jaw to press her fingertips together. “Sorry.” His boots make contact
with the ground again.

Sometimes he wonders what it might be like, to say those
things out loud to her. To let her know how happy she makes him, how her presence
fills him with a sense of serenity he never thought he’d be capable of feeling.
After all these years of knowing her it should be easy to look into her eyes
and tell her. But the rough timbre of his voice, the scowl etched into his
expression, the way his palms constantly smell of explosive chemicals make him
think better of it. It wouldn’t come out right, coming from him.

But it’s that look she gives him, that look she’s giving him
right now, the one that’s filled with
warmth and safety and even underneath all that, happiness, that makes him reconsider letting her know how he feels.

She’s letting go now, looking off at the wreckage around
them and the civilians that still need to be accounted for, and his fingers are
grasping onto her hand before she can turn away.

“Hey,” he says, low. “I just—I want you to know—”

She looks up at him patiently. He wants to, he wants to—

“I’m just—I’m glad you’re safe, too.”

Coward.

Even so, she lets out a breathless little laugh like he
really did just confess his undying love for her, looking a little shocked but
mostly pleased. “Thanks, Katsuki.”

“Hey LOVEBIRDS!”

The booming voice of Endeavor has Bakugo separating from
Uraraka, turning back to the scene with a scowl.

“Save the public displays of affection for when you’re
alone.” Bakugo doesn’t have the time or energy to explain how stupid of a
statement that is. He let’s go of Uraraka and shoulders past Endeavor, not
waiting for more instruction that the pro hero would surely try to dole out to
his dutiful apprentices. The flames from Bakugo and Endeavor’s attacks are
finally starting to die down, leaving nothing but a smoldering glow in their
wake that can be easily put out by someone with a water quirk.

Bakugo heads toward the rubble he knows he has to clear
away, only pausing briefly to look back at Uraraka, who’s still talking to
Endeavor. Something about her—the determination in her eyes, the blood and soot
smeared across her face that she still hasn’t wiped away, the way the light of
the leftover flames dances across her skin—hardens his resolve. He’s going to
find a way to tell her. And soon.

He loves her so damn much.

But until then, he has a mangled street light to dispose of,
and sweaty palms from holding his girlfriend’s hand to help him with just that.

Shitty Prom AU, a series

remember when like a year and a half ago me and Aila (@ailaxolotl) joked about an FMA:B Prom AU and I started writing out like 14 drabbles for it but never finished any of them and then intermittently forgot about them? well, look! I stopped forgetting for a sec! and, like, it’s prom season, so why not add a little bit more to it?
so so here’s a good ol highschool au featuring the Central High crew (Ed, Al, Winry, Ling, Lan Fan, and Paninya.) ships include ed x ling and paninya x lan fan.

pt. 1 // pt. 2 // pt. 3
// pt. 4

“I don’t mean to sound like a cynic here,” Paninya said as
she eyed her friends, where a good 2/3 of them looked inches from death, “but I
could have sworn the point of a movie night was to watch the movie.”

Ling didn’t even stir from where he laid sprawled out on the
couch, cheek resting on one of Ed’s legs while a small puddle of his drool
darkened a patch of Ed’s jeans. Ed himself was barely conscious, his head
bobbing up and down as he slipped between sleeping and waking every few
seconds. Winry had left the living room a while ago to go make herself some
coffee, though it was debatable if she ever made it to the kitchen. Paninya
half expected to find her lying face-down in the hallway to match the younger Elric
brother, who was currently lying on the floor and groaning.

“What even happened to you guys?” Paninya asked,
suspiciously poking at Ling’s face. He let out a half-hearted whine and swatted
in the vague direction of her hand.

Lan Fan emerged from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and
sat down on her end of the couch next to Paninya, shaking the bowl in her
girlfriend’s direction. Paninya took a handful.

“They pulled an all-nighter working on a AP Chem project,”
she said simply. She held up her phone. “Ling tweeted about it the entire
night.”

Paninya looked down at her girlfriend’s phone and scrolled a
bit, seeing tweet after tweet from Ling in all caps.

Ling Yao
@actualprinceling
I HATE THIS I WANT TO DIE

Ling Yao
@actualprinceling
NO ONE CARES THIS MUCH ABOUT CHEMISTRY

Ling Yao
@actualprinceling
IS IT OKAY TO BREAK-UP WITH YOUR BF OVER A GROUP PROJECT

Ling Yao
@actualprinceling
WILL DESTROY THE NEXT ELRIC NERD WHO CORRECTS MY STOICHIOMETRY I SWEAR TO FUCK

“Um, is the happy couple still together?” she asks
carefully.

Ed stirred from his daze long enough to nod slowly. “Only
because he said he didn’t have the energy to dump me after staying up all
night. Plus, it’s his own fault for not checking his math—”

“—I will punch you in the dick, Edward Elric,” came the
muffled groan from his lap.

“—or paying attention, like at all, in class. Really he’s pretty useless as a lab partner.”
Ling stirred for a moment like he might actually rise to fight Ed, but Ed
reached down and carded his hand through his boyfriend’s bangs, placating him.
Ling hummed softly and laid back down.

“Wait,” Paninya said. “Why is Al tired? He’s not even in AP
chemistry. He’s a junior.”

“They were doing it all wrong!” Alphonse suddenly cried from
the floor. “Like, you guys had to memorize the entire periodic table for class,
how could you not know the difference between a lanthanoid and an actinoid?”

“No matter how many times you say that, we’re still not
gonna know what it means!” Paninya heard Winry call from the kitchen.

Both Elrics groaned in contempt. Paninya rolled her eyes. This
was the problem with being friends with science nerds.

“Alphonse came to help them with their project halfway
through the night. Winry and Ling weren’t much help to Edward,” Lan Fan
translated, still scrolling through her Twitter Feed and munching on her
popcorn.

“It’s moments like these that really make me value my
general ed education,” Paninya said haughtily. “Like, I can’t remember the last
time I had to pull an all-nighter for remedial Earth Science.”

“That’s because you conned me into doing it for you,” Al muttered angrily.

Paninya shrugged. It wasn’t her fault that he was gullible enough to be tricked into doing
everyone else’s science homework.

“Some famous CEO once said he’d choose a lazy person to do a
hard job because they’d find the easiest way to do it,” she said with a smirk. “I
happened to find the easiest way to do homework is to have others do it for
me.”

Lan Fan snorted. Alphonse groaned again.

“And anyways, I didn’t invite you guys to a movie night to
have you all fall asleep on me,” Paninya said with her hands on her hips. Lan
Fan quirked an eyebrow at her, and Paninya amended with a pat on Lan Fan’s
knee, “Besides you, babe.”

“Paninyaaaaa,” Ling cried pitifully. “Can’t we watch the
movie another night? I don’t even remember what we’re watching.”

It was some sci-fi B movie that Ed picked out during their
last fight about what to watch for movie night, which meant that Paninya didn’t
give a crap about the movie either. “Well, I didn’t actually invite you here to
watch a movie, either,” she said with a grin. “I gathered you all here today to
talk about prom.”

The three tired teenagers groaned in response. Paninya was
pretty sure she heard Winry make a miserable noise from the kitchen as well.

Paninya pressed on. “One, you’re all horrible when you’re
tired. Two, are we getting a limo?”

“Too show-y,” Al said from the floor.

“Too expensive,” Ed said from beside her on the couch.

“Mmrph ih,” Ling mumbled sleepily into Ed’s leg.

Winry finally returned from the kitchen, holding a
dangerously large cup of coffee. She sat down cross-legged on the floor beside
Alphonse’s sprawled form. “I don’t know, guys. I think a limo could be kind of
fun.” The Elrics bristled briefly before she continued. “Come on, guys. You
have enough money from babysitting Nina to pitch in. And what’s wrong with
being a little corny and flashy for one night? Isn’t that what prom is all
about?”

Paninya’s smile lit up her whole face. “That’s my girl! I
vote limo too.” She held up her hand and ticked off her fingers. “All right,
that means we have two for the limo, two against the limo, one—” Paninya nudged
Ling with her elbow. He didn’t move. “—unconscious person, and one vote left.”
She turned her full body to face Lan Fan. “So. Babe. As the tie-breaker vote,
what’s the final decision?”

Lan Fan scrunched up her nose, adorably and angrily. “How is
that fair? I didn’t even want to go
to prom and now you’re making me the swing vote?” All eyes remained on her, but
Lan Fan was only looking to Paninya, who was doing her best to give her
girlfriend the strongest puppy dog eyes she had in her arsenal. “Now that’s definitely not fair.”

Paninya did not waiver. Lan Fan continued to scowl for five
more seconds.

Then she gave in.

“Fine! We’ll get you your stupid limo.”

“Yes!” Paninya fist pumped in victory. “You’re the best, did
you know that?”

Lan Fan grumbled unhappily until Paninya kissed her, a
million little ones on her nose and cheeks and lips until Lan Fan was giggling
and pushing her away before she knocked the popcorn off her lap. “You’re lucky
you’re cute,” she said breathlessly, trying to return her face to its usual
sternness and failing.

Paninya kissed her once more. “Oh, I know it.”

She turned to her friends once more, already pulling out her
phone to bring up the info for the four limousine websites she had researched,
but when she looked up, half of her friends were asleep. She turned to Winry and
Paninya, the two most perfect girls in the entire world and also the only conscious
people left in the room, and sighed. Instead she reached into her front overalls
pocket, where she had kept an assortment of different colored markers for this
very purpose.

“Ladies, I’m afraid we’ll have to wait to book a limo for
now. Until then,” she gravely handed the two girls a marker each, “there’s only
one thing left to do.”

The photos were posted on Instagram immediately, as was
tradition for any sleepover Paninya hosted. “FLEA” in all caps was written
across Edward’s forehead in rainbow colors, Winry’s sketchy script recognizable
to anyone. Ling’s cheek, the one that wasn’t resting on Ed’s thigh, had “PEASANT”
scrawled on it, a meme from ages ago that Lan Fan knew Ling hated with a passion. Alphonse’s
sleeping face was mercifully saved, since Paninya owed him for him doing all of
her science homework for her since the beginning of time. Paninya instead
slapped a sticky note to the unconscious junior’s forehead with a little halo
drawn in orange sharpie.

“Which do you think they’ll be more mad about, the limo vote
they missed, or the face doodles?” Winry asked as she pulled out the air
compressor our of the storage closet for the blow-up mattress.

Paninya shrugged, leading the girls into her room and away
from the snoring boys in the living room. “Doesn’t matter to me,” she said with
smile.

This is was what they got for falling asleep during movie
night, anyway.

SoMa Week 2018

Day 5: Touch

my procrastinating ass didn’t finish a damn thing for SoMa week, but luckily past-me had a wip serendipitously titled “touch” so here we are! apologies for this being a day late and super short

They rarely touched each other.

It wasn’t something they ever spoke of, it just was. After that first handshake, that
introduction of one soul to another, their bodies remained firmly separate from
one another. Maka was never really sure why,
but she knew that every time her shoulder bumped his while they walked side
by side in the hall, her first instinct was to retract, to apologize, to
pretend it didn’t happen. No matter how innocuous the contact was, the second
they touched they became opposing magnets, flinging themselves in opposite
directions.

After all, she was a girl and Soul was a boy. It shouldn’t
have mattered, and maybe it didn’t, but the difference between them was there,
and so was the nervousness that came with being around any boy at age twelve. She
wanted to partner with him, but she didn’t quite know what to make of him yet
either. Part of Maka always assumed that whey they had gotten used to each
other more, they’d fall into a routine, become more comfortable like their
peers did with their partners.

But it never seemed to happen that way. Being partnered with
Soul, living with him, spending all her time with him, couldn’t seem to bridge
the physical gap between them.

All of that seemed so stupid now, with Soul lying in front
of her, not moving, not breathing, just sopping wet and freezing cold and very,
very still. Tremors shook her body as she watched the paramedic administer CPR,
fingers locking and pressing to his chest as he measured out forged heartbeats
for Soul under the pressure of his palms. Steady fingers tilted Soul’s head
back, a taut mouth pressed itself to Soul’s and breathed in—one, two—and again—one, two. Maka watched numbly as Soul’s body was willed back to
life by the hands of another, and when he took his first breath on his own, the
invisible walls around her crumbled.

He rose to his elbows for a moment, swaying all the while as
he searched for her, and Maka dropped to her knees at his side. She couldn’t
hear over the pounding of blood in her ears, but she could feel her mouth
moving, forming the words “You’re okay, you’re okay” like a prayer, broken and
desperate. She couldn’t be sure if she was trying to comfort Soul or herself. He
couldn’t stay sitting up for long, his head too heavy and his body too weak,
but Maka’s shaking hands caught his head before it could settle back to the
ground. She pulled him towards her lap, cradling his head on the tops of her
thighs while her hands acquainted themselves with his hair, his forehead, his
cheeks.

Brushing his bangs away from his clammy face, she smiled
down at him. The mist in her eyes blurred her vision, but she could still make
out Soul lifting his hand from the ground and placing it over her own, where it
rested on his cheek. His skin was still cold and damp, but that wasn’t her
reason for squeezing her eyes shut and letting fat tears rolls down them,
dripping down her jaw and onto his face. Soul was alive and his hand softly patting at her own just confirmed
it. He almost died today. He did die today. She struggled to pull in
another shuddering breath, but the thought of it crippled her.

“S’okay,” he croaked, his voice whisper-soft. He wove his
fingers together with hers. This wasn’t normal for them, this contact, this
closeness. But Maka could feel soft patter of his pulse where their wrists
connected, and she knew without a doubt she was never letting go.

Number 10 for the writing prompt!

here’s some pre-series TRC content! *throws glitter*

–

Ronan was pretty sure his eyes were open, but it was impossible to tell for sure. Darkness filled his vision, which could mean one of three things. He was either dead, blinded, or—

“Gansey?”

Something jostled to his right, and suddenly Ronan had taken a hit to the gut. It wasn’t a particularly hard blow, more of a jab, really, but the suddenness of it caught Ronan off guard and he had to fight the urge to hit back. He shoved what he believed to be Gansey’s elbow away from him and glared into the darkness, taking a controlled breath in through his nose and out through his teeth.

“Are we in a hole right now?”

“Ronan—”

“Gansey,” he said, very calm and very, very controlled. He felt loose dirt slide down his collar in his shirt. “Are. We. In. A. Hole.”

He didn’t need to see his best friend’s face to imagine the cautious and repentant expression Gansey must have been wearing. “Look, I know you’re mad—”

“Are we in a hole or are we dead? You know what, don’t answer, because I’ve already made my choice and I hope we’re dead. Because being dead sounds much better than being stuck in a ten-foot-deep hole with you and probably a Welsh king’s corpse.”

“I don’t think Glendower is in here,” Gansey murmured, dissatisfied.

Ronan wondered if it was considered bad manners to strangle your best friend. He wondered if he cared.

“If I’m dead, I only have one regret, and it’s not flipping you off more when I had the chance. I’m doing it right now, by the way, but you probably can’t tell because we’re in a DEEP DARK HOLE.”

“In hindsight, doing the search of this area at night was poor planning, but now we know for next time,” Gansey said. Ronan envisioned him pushing his wireframes up as he said it, though he knew that Gansey was still wearing his contacts.

Ronan breathed deeply again. It was somewhere around 4 am. They had no way of climbing out of the pitfall they’d fallen into. They had no way of contacting Adam since he didn’t have a phone. They were on private land, technically trespassing, so they couldn’t call the police.

“How long until Parrish notices we’re missing and comes looking for us?” Ronan asked, already resigned to a night of cuddling with Gansey and hoping earth walls of this hole wouldn’t cave in on them and suffocate them slowly.

“Probably by Weights tomorrow.”

Ronan couldn’t even be sure if he was properly rolling his eyes. The blackness of their shared hole was eternal.

“I’m flipping you off still, just so you know.”